From the Warlord's Empire

  INTRO

  September 21. A night of a crescent moon…

  It was the dead of night when the Island Guard assault team raided an old warehouse in the harbor district. They’d received information that a criminal organization was selling smuggled weapons on the black market.

  Blowing the warehouse door away with explosives, the body-armored squad members charged straight in.

  The iron columns were rusted, and wooden crates were piled atop one another. The men in the warehouse, under the dim lighting of mercury lamps, stood up all at once. They seemed to have been playing cards, but then a tossed flash-bang grenade detonated at their feet. The men, robbed of their vision, were then mowed down by submachine gunfire.

  The assault team used consecrated electrum chip rounds. This was a special anti-beast-man ammunition that suppressed the regenerative abilities of demonic flesh. Destroying the rear wall of the warehouse, the second squad of the assault team charged in, as snipers hidden in the surrounding buildings shot suspects who tried to flee out of the windows.

  Combat was over in less than two minutes. Faced with two fully outfitted Island Guard squads, which had the element of surprise, the suspects were completely overwhelmed. As the cloud of tear gas in the warehouse cleared, the men were on the floor in a heap.

  There were seven of them. All were demons—demons without ID bracelets, who had entered the island illegally.

  Bullet ridden and bathed in blood, they’d collapsed onto the floor.

  This level of damage was not enough to actually kill the extremely hardy beast men, but it was enough to prevent bestialization and put them out of the fight.

  One of the squad leaders ordered his men to put all the beast men in restraints.

  But at that same moment, he suddenly remembered what they’d been told at the briefing. There were eight suspects hiding out in the warehouse. There had to be one more somewhere.

  …Not good!

  As the squad leader instantly brought his gun back up, one of the fallen beast men’s bodies was hurled away with great force. Under it, a largely unharmed demon emerged. It was a black-furred, leopard-faced beast man with a huge, supple frame. He’d apparently used his own comrade as a shield to protect himself and conceal his presence.

  Within one of the fully bestialized demon’s hands was a small device that looked like a remote control.

  The squad leader sucked in his breath as he realized that the frighteningly simple device was the detonation switch for a bomb set inside the warehouse.

  “Fall back!” yelled the squad leader. But his voice disappeared amid the roar that erupted.

  The shock wave pulverized the wooden crates piled high, a whirlwind of burning air scorching the interior of the warehouse in an instant. The flames dyed the night sky red—

  “Shit, shit, shit, shit…you’ve done it now, human scum!”

  The leopard-headed man’s husky voice hurled a torrent of insults as he ran through the city in the middle of the night.

  The bullet wound he’d sustained throbbed painfully. The pain in his eyes and nose was no doubt the effects of tear gas. The attack by a ritual energy-infused weapon had blocked his beast-man regenerative ability, too, which greatly prolonged his agony.

  However, that was not all that had raised his hackles.

  Though it was good he’d escaped the warehouse as it exploded, he’d lost his comrades, and the weapons deal was a wash. It wasn’t enough of a setback to hinder the plan, but it was a failure nonetheless. At this rate, he’d lose influence inside the organization. He might even lose the lieutenant colonel’s trust.

  “I’ll never forgive them… They will pay for this.”

  The man shot a hate-filled glare at the warehouse behind him, still enveloped by flames. Then he turned his eyes toward the moonlit nocturnal skyline of the city.

  Tokyo metropolitan area, Itogami City—a giant artificial island floating on top of the Pacific Ocean; established under the Holy Ground Treaty as an ideal of coexistence between humans and demonkind; an abominable “Demon Sanctuary.”

  The leopard-headed man was a native of the “Warlord’s Empire” in Europe. He had no particular grudge against the humans of Itogami City.

  Nonetheless, he had reason to destroy this city. By destroying a Demon Sanctuary, the Black Death Emperor Front he was part of would broadcast to the world it was in robust health, which would surely light the beacon of rebellion toward the usurper king who held demons back from their rightful place.

  The plan was already in motion. This city’s destiny could no longer be altered by anything those Island Guard lowlifes could do.

  It might play minor havoc with their schedule, but drawing their attention onto himself was, if anything, a good thing. By serving as a decoy and throwing the Island Guard into chaos, the plan’s chances of success would only grow stronger. Perhaps that, too, had been part of the lieutenant colonel’s plan.

  At any rate, he’d get his chance to avenge his comrades against the Island Guard soon enough. Even setting off a single bomb in the shopping district would tie them into knots.

  He cared nothing for how many city residents might be caught in the explosion. All this interruption did was slightly alter the order in which they’d die. Yes, this city was destined to perish either way.

  Maintaining his bestialized form, he leaped onto the top of a five-story building in a single bound. Even among so-called L-type beast men, the were-panther species boasted especially great nimbleness and agility. Surely there was no one capable of following him as he ran through an urban area at night.

  For now, it was best to find somewhere to hide and wait for his wound to heal…

  But before that, the man’s thumb moved toward the trigger for the remote detonator.

  He’d set two bombs before their assault. He’d already used the first on the warehouse, but that left the other one he’d set in a corridor under the harbor district.

  The Island Guard’s reinforcements, called in to aid the wounded, should have been passing through right around that moment. Use the first blast to draw in the enemy’s comrades; use the second to wipe them out. It was a time-honored tactic on the battlefield.

  “Know my vengeance for my brethren…!”

  The man strongly gripped the remote control in his hand.

  But though his thumb should surely have touched the switch, it registered no sensation whatsoever.

  With a sharp sense of unease, the man looked at his own right hand. He sucked in his breath in shock.

  The remote control he should have been holding in his hand had vanished without a trace.

  Instead, there was a chain wrapped around his arm. The silver chain, stretching out of thin air, bound his wrist like a handcuff.

  “The hell…is this?!”

  The leopard-headed man put strength into his arm to tear it from the chain. However, even the arm strength of a beast man could not pull the silver chain apart. On the contrary, the pull of the chain was keeping the man pinned there.

  The next moment, he heard an articulate voice from behind him that somehow seemed to be mocking him.

  “…Though incomplete, that’s Laeding forged by the gods. You lack the power to break it.”

  “What?!”

  With a low growl, the man turned to face the unexpected voice.

  It was a small woman who looked like a child. She wore a ridiculously extravagant dress, holding a parasol in spite of it being the middle of the night. Her cherubic features gave her the look of a lovely doll. For no reason other than her looking so very out of place, the man knew fear.

  “Really, using an unencrypted remote detonator over analog radio in this day and age? How cheap of you. You’
re lucky to have gone so long without blowing yourself up.”

  The woman murmured in apparent ridicule as the palm of her hand tossed around a small device that looked very much like a remote control.

  The man’s face twitched as he beheld the sight. The device the parasol woman was toying with was the remote control for the detonator that should have been in his hand. He didn’t know what trick the woman had used to get close enough to snatch the detonator trigger away without him, a beast man, ever sensing it.

  “A Counter-Demon Attack Mage, huh? How’d you catch up to me?”

  The leopard-headed man’s amber eyes narrowed and glared at the woman. The woman’s lips suppressed a laugh.

  “Did you really think you could shake me off? Highly conceited for a stray cat like you.”

  “…Don’t get carried away with yourself, little girl!”

  The leopard-headed man raised his voice at the sight of the woman’s mocking smile. He pulled a knife out of the belt around his waist and struck his right arm with it. By severing his wrist along with the chain that bound it, his body would be free to move once more. “My,” the parasol-wielding woman said in apparent admiration.

  “Hmph, for a stray cat, I have to admire your guts. One of Kristof Gardos’s men, I presume? With the Black Death Emperor Front on its last legs, you sure went through a lot of trouble, crossing the sea to get here.”

  “…I’ll kill you!” The man howled as fresh blood scattered about from his right arm.

  Even for beast men, who possessed great healing ability, regenerating a completely severed arm was no easy feat. However, even at that cost, he needed to defeat this woman of unknown origins here and now. For the success of their plan, someone who knew the name of Kristof Gardos—the lieutenant colonel—could not be suffered to live.

  Tearing his own wrist from his arm, the man used the explosive speed characteristic of beast men to charge the parasol-bearing woman.

  He needed not to rely on the knife any longer. The brute strength of a beast man was great even among demons, more than enough to tear a powerless human woman apart with his bare hand.

  However, that parasol woman of unknown origin made a graceful smile.

  “Futile. For you, at least…”

  The claws extending from the man’s fingertips touched her slender shoulder…or so he thought. That instant, the woman’s form melted into a beautiful ripple, like the surface of a pool, leaving only thin air behind.

  “The hell…?!” As an expression of shock came over him, the leopard-headed man looked back.

  The woman, still elegantly holding up her parasol, had moved some ten meters away onto the rooftop of the next building over.

  There had been no sound, no sensation; not a single hair on her head had even moved. It had happened instantaneously.

  He felt like he was watching a desert mirage, but the woman’s existence was certainly no illusion.

  Her heart beat. She breathed. Her body was warm. She had a scent. All of his beast-man senses, hundreds of times more sensitive than a normal person’s, told him the woman truly existed. She was, without doubt, a normal human being in possession of a physical form.

  “I told you, you cannot kill me…” With a teasing smile, the woman with the parasol snapped her fingers.

  A large ripple spread throughout the thin air around the man. By the time he realized that what looked like a ripple was actually a high-density magic circle, it was too late. A great number of silver chains emerged from the void, assailing the man as if they were sentient snakes, arresting his entire body.

  “Spatial control magic…?! That’s crazy! That’s a trick only the highest-ranking practitioners of magic can pull off! How can a little girl like you…?!” The voice of the fallen man, his entire body restrained by chains, trembled in astonishment.

  But the woman said not a word, tapping her parasol with a disinterested sigh. Looking up at the side of her face illuminated by the moonlight, the leopard-headed man made a low moan.

  “I get it now…you’re Natsuki Minamiya! What are you doing here?! Don’t you have enough demon blood on your hands, Witch of the Void…!”

  “My, my…the stray cat certainly can talk.” The woman with the parasol made her statement coldly. With a light wave of her hand, the supposedly severed hand of the were-panther appeared from the void, connecting to his arm as if forcing the two to mend themselves together.

  “What are you doing?” asked the man, glaring up at Natsuki.

  Natsuki expressionlessly looked back down at him. “Do not be concerned. I am not healing you out of kindness. It’s just a little first aid to stop the bleeding. After all, it would be inconvenient for you to die before we’ve dragged the information we need out of you.”

  “…Do you really think I’ll give you information on my comrades?”

  “I don’t think the likes of Kristof Gardos told you his real plan in the first place.”

  “What do you mean…?”

  Natsuki turned her back without giving the shaken man a reply.

  “I’ll leave interrogating you about what terrorists from the Warlord’s Empire intend to do in a Demon Sanctuary in the Far East to the Island Guard’s people. I may not look it, but I am quite busy. I have to prepare for classes tomorrow.”

  “Prepare for classes…?”

  Natsuki’s extremely out-of-place words threw the were-panther for a loop.

  No doubt he couldn’t comprehend that the woman, whose alias “the Witch of the Void” made the demons of Europe tremble, was a high school English teacher by day.

  Natsuki vanished, leaving a gentle ripple in space behind her. After, the fallen, chain-bound beast man was left behind, all alone.

  In spite of the string of curses falling from his lips, the man made a low laugh.

  No, this changed nothing. Even his being captured here did not change the situation whatsoever. The plan was already in motion. Even the might of the Witch of the Void would not alter this city’s destiny. Either way, this place was destined to perish.

  This night, too, the blissfully sleeping city bathed in the silent glow of moonlight.

  Prior to dawn…

  A ship was calmly at anchor over waters nearly 330 kilometers south of Tokyo.

  The ship was christened the Oceanus Grave. It was about four hundred feet in overall length. In the vernacular, it was known as a megayacht.

  It was a Western-style cruise ship. The ship, the size of its hull rivaling that of a military cruiser, was so beautifully decorated that even extravagant passenger liners could not hold a candle to it. It bore such majesty that it could be called, without irony, a floating palace.

  But in the end, the Oceanus Grave was a frighteningly luxurious castle owned by and built for a single man.

  Though this fact seemed most unrealistic, anyone would instantly accept it upon hearing the owner’s name, for the Oceanus Grave was the private property of the Duke of Ardeal, Dimitrie Vattler—a noble of the Warlord’s Empire.

  The ship’s owner was enjoying the moonlit view on the upper deck. Lying on his side on an extravagant sun lounger, he leisurely tilted a glass of cassis liqueur in his hand.

  He was a handsome, blond, blue-eyed man. By external appearance, he was in his midtwenties perhaps.

  However, he bore the title of noble. In other words, he was a vampire of the so-called Old Guard possessing extraordinary power. His expansive territory within the Warlord’s Empire had a standing army of such vast military might that it rivaled the armies of the Western European alliance; he himself was a monster possessing enormous power, able to wipe out a large city in the blink of an eye.

  A slender silhouette approached the side of that young aristocrat.

  She was a youthful Japanese teenager. Her tall, gracefully curved body was paired with facial features that gave one a sense of floral elegance.

  Her long hair was in a ponytail, dancing without a sound as the sea breeze blew it around.

  She w
ore the school uniform of a well-known girls’ academy from the Osaka region.

  In her right hand, she carried a black instrument case of the sort that would contain an electronic keyboard.

  “So you were over here, Your Excellency?” The long-haired girl stood still, speaking with reverent formality.

  Coincidentally, the destination of the ship he was sailing with had just come into view. It was a solitary island floating on top of the ocean with open sea all around it. It was constructed of floating structures of extremely large size; a Gigafloat…

  Built with the objective of controlling “dragon lines,” it was now a city for the research of demonic life and abilities thereof. It was the Demon Sanctuary known as Itogami Island.

  “So that is it, the bastard child of scrap metal and sorcery? Quite a contraption you’ve constructed out of odds and ends. This is why humans are so interesting.”

  The young man seemed to be murmuring to himself, his behavior not indicating whether he was praising or insulting.

  The girl brushed off his words with a chilly smile and presented him with a single letter.

  “I have brought the Japanese government’s letter of reply.”

  “…Mm?” Acting like he was noticing the girl’s existence for the first time, the young aristocrat slowly turned toward her. With an affable smile on his face, he did not project the oppressive feeling characteristic of vampires and the mighty power concealed within them.

  The girl accepted his somehow sardonic gaze head-on as she continued speaking casually.

  It says…effective twelve o’clock a.m. today, Your Excellency’s visit to the Demon Sanctuary of Itogami Island has been approved. Hereafter, Your Excellency shall be treated as a special diplomatic envoy of the Warlord’s Empire pursuant to the Holy Ground Treaty.”

  “That’s quite fine. A proper and expected conclusion, yes? Well, had they told me to make myself scarce I meant to let myself in regardless, but that would have been a nuisance.” Still lying on the sun lounger, Dimitrie Vattler gave an innocent laugh.

  But the girl’s expression hardened, as if reproaching him. “There is one condition.”